


pray among the stars

by kittyandmulder, marvellingyou (tourmalinex)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Everyone is a good bro, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Howard Stark Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Maria Stark Lives, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Sick Steve Rogers, Surgery, Tony and Steve are godbrothers, but not by much, slight age gap, updating tags as we go!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 16:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyandmulder/pseuds/kittyandmulder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourmalinex/pseuds/marvellingyou
Summary: Steve hated the body he was born in, but accepted the cards that were dealt. If anything, he hated the assumptions made by strangers even more. Bucky, after losing his arm, came to realize that while he had to make adjustments, there were others that didn’t have the support he was fortunate to have. So when Bucky is assigned to be Steve’s note taker in college, they find solace in each other, a kindred spirit. But the road to a happy ending is never smooth.For the StuckyBB 2019!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 79
Kudos: 229
Collections: Stucky Big Bang 2019





	1. your chances are awfully good

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Chances are you believe the stars that fill the skies are in my eyes  
Guess you feel you'll always be the one and only one for me  
And if you think you could  
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good

Chances Are — Johnny Mathis

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Steve Rogers?”

Steve looked up and was met with a smile. “Hello, I’m Maria Hill, one of the counselors,” she said. “Why don’t we head back to my office?”

The Resource for Students With Disabilities—formerly known as Resource for Disabled Students—was the best support, Steve decided. Sure, the initial meetings and arrangements would be irritating to get through, but the certainty that he would have access to assistance lightened the load he carried on his shoulders. 

As Steve followed Maria, his hands trembled. He had no reason to be nervous. However, he also knew better than to assume every road was smoothly paved. In the past, he dealt with hiccups in the system and went without clear answers. Even when he raised hell, he often didn’t get any follow up on important things, such as filing for Survivors Benefits after his mother passed. Steve hoped that this year wouldn’t be the same.

“Please, have a seat.” Maria held the door open, only stepping into the office after Steve and closed the door. “We received the paperwork from Dr. Erskine, so we can connect you with a note taker.” 

“Okay.” He unzipped his bag and took out a white binder, flipping through until he found what he needed. “Here’s my schedule. I just need someone to help me on Mondays and Wednesdays, from 10 to 12:30, then 1:30 to 2:30.”

“Alright, let me just pull up the list of note takers this semester.” Maria opened up a document and scrolled through, looking at the screen intently. “Hmmmm… oh! Here we go!” She grabbed a post-it and a pen, scribbling down a note before placing it at the bottom of her screen. “So we have someone available. His name is James Barnes. I’ll send him your contact information, so make sure to check your school email. If you have any problems with him, you can always come here and talk to me or any of the staff.”

“That’s it?” Aware of how incredulous he sounded, Steve backed up. “I mean, that’s all there is to it?”

Maria smiled. “We try to make this as seamless as possible. It’s already chaotic for freshmen and transfer students. Not to mention that for the next two weeks, most counseling services are drop-in only.”

Oh, thank god.

“Do you have any other questions?”

Steve shook his head. “To be honest, I’m just… relieved?”

“Well, it’s still the beginning of the semester, so don’t feel too relaxed.”

“I know it’s college, but some of the professors are being… ridiculous,” he said, looking down at his hands. “How do they expect students who just got out of high school to get it right?”

“That’s why we’re here.” Her eyes held empathy—not pity, and Steve highly appreciated that. “If any professor gives you a hard time because of the accommodations you’ve requested, let us know.”

“Okay. Thank you so much.”

“Not a problem.” Maria’s focus went back to the computer. “I’ll schedule an appointment. It’s more of a check-in, really, to make sure you’re on track and to see if there’s anything else we can do to help you out. Do you have a preference?”

“Umm…” Steve’s eyes shifted in thought. “After my classes are fine. So maybe three-ish?” 

“Got it. We’ll meet the week before midterms.” She clicked and typed away. “How about October 1st, at three?”

“That works.” Steve took out his phone, scrolling through to October and set a reminder. “So, I’ll, uh, see you then?”

“See you in October. And remember, you don’t need to get everything right the first time.”

With that in mind, Steve thanked Maria again and left the office. Now all he had to do was wait to get a message from his note taker, James. His mind drifted as he mozied over to the art building. What kind of person was James? Steve hoped that they could get along. Otherwise, it was going to be an awkward semester, or an awkward year.

He had some time before class started, so he took out his phone, looking at some of his messages. Steve settled on his message thread with Sam, his best friend.

Sam was one of the best people Steve knew. Since the met freshman year in high school, they stuck together, through thick and thin. He didn’t know such a friendship could exist in real life, that they were reserved for movies and tv shows. But Sam was loyal, being there when Steve needed him most, from facing the stress of being a teenager to losing his mom senior year. He often wondered why Sam stuck around him for so long. If anything, Sam gave more than Steve could ever give, and he hated that. 

“That’s what friends do, Steve,” Sam said once. “And you’re there for me. You just don’t see it. So get your head outta your ass, okay?”

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey. Just letting you know that the meeting went well

Not long after sending that message, Steve’s phone buzzed.

**Sam Wilson**

> That’s awesome! Happy for you man!  
Show those profs who’s boss!

**Steve Rogers**

> Thanks for the pep talk lol  
We still having dinner at that pho place later

**Sam Wilson**

> Duh

**Steve Rogers**

> Can’t pho-king wait :)

**Sam Wilson**

> I hate you sometimes  
Why are we best friends again

**Steve Rogers**

> My dazzling eyes and can-do attitude?  
Or maybe it’s my tight ass

**Sam Wilson**

> Omfg get that tight ass to bio

**Steve Rogers**

> Lol ttyl

* * *

Steve and Sam’s dorm was modest, but comfortable, thanks to Mrs. Wilson. She wanted the best for her boys and despite his protests, Mrs. Wilson made sure that Steve had what he needed. Meaning, he had all the blankets and pillows for not just a fort, but a _castle_.

“I don’t trust those beds,” she told him. “With your back, you’re gonna need all the comfort possible.”

Sam snickered, knowing all too well that Steve hated being coddled. But at the same time, he couldn’t say no. Alongside his godparents, Howard and Maria, the Wilsons were hellbent on making sure to help out Steve whenever possible. All of them were there when his mother first fell ill, and since then they refused to leave him alone.

“We don’t let family go without.”

“It’s okay to lean on us. We care about you.”

“You don’t have to go at it alone.”

Was it smothering at times? Yes. But Steve wouldn’t trade his family for anything.

He headed straight to his room, stomach full of soup. After dropping his bag by his door, Steve walked towards his bed and allowed himself to free-fall onto the mattress, landing with a soft _hmph_. After a long day, there was nothing like being able to lay down and surrender to the cool blankets. But as he closed his eyes, sighing in content, Steve felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. As a groan slipped past his lips, he pulled out his phone, eyes widening at the notification. 

_Fuck, that was fast._

Steve knew he’d be getting an email, but he didn’t think it’d happen so soon. Wasn’t his note taker a student, too? Didn’t he have classes, or friends to hang out with?

─────────────────────────

To: Steven G. Rogers  
From: James B. Barnes

Good evening!

I’m Bucky, your note taker for the semester. I was hoping that we could meet up on campus so we can discuss your preferred style of notes. 

Let me know what day/time works for you.

─────────────────────────

Steve smirked. What the hell kind of name was Bucky? He was thankful that Bucky was seemingly casual—Steve didn’t think he’d have the mental capacity to type a formal message.

─────────────────────────

To: James B. Barnes  
From: Steven G. Rogers

Hey!

Thanks for being my note taker. I’m free on Friday at 11 if that’s cool. How about we meet in the dining hall? I’m easy to spot. Just find the short blonde guy with a big art bag.

─────────────────────────

To: Steven G. Rogers  
From: James B. Barnes

Okay, Friday at 11 in the dining hall. I’ll be on the lookout for you. See you then.

─────────────────────────

_Oh thank god. That’s that._

Steve rolled over onto his back, arms outstretched and eyes closed.

* * *

While he hated the wall of sound that greeted him every time he entered the dining hall, Steve settled at a table somewhat near the entrance. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but at the same time, wanted Bucky to find him with ease. Figuring he had enough time, Steve brought out his personal sketchbook and a few pencils. He focused on his surroundings, the distance of the room and how high the ceiling was and the number of people. The pencil glided across the page, etching curved and straight lines that with time and varying degrees of pressure, resembled the dining hall more and more. Steve looked up occasionally, adding detail after detail as much as possible. 

However, as the minutes passed, Steve felt the ache in his joints. It always started out as a dull burn, but would rapidly become pins and needles, each one piercing through his skin from the inside out. He hated how the pain would flare at random, but accepted that there was nothing he could do aside from taking his special blend of medication.

Steve sighed. He closed his sketchbook and put his pencils away. As he sunk in his seat, a deep laugh caught his attention. His head shot up and his heart skipped a beat. Another student—tall, tan-ish and _very_ handsome—walked into the dining hall, talking to someone on the phone. While Steve didn’t catch most of the conversation, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the beautifully crafted face framed by dark locks of hair. The hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stood up as his eyes locked with Mr. Smouldering Perfection’s gaze. For a second, he swore the corner of Mr. Smoulder’s lips twitched into a smile. 

_ Why would he smile at me? Do I have something on my face? _

Mr. Smoulder stuck his phone in his pocket and made his way over to Steve’s table. 

_Act normal, Steve Rogers._

He was still smiling.

_Just play it cool._

“Hey, are you Steve Rogers?”

Oh. Oh, _no._

Steve cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah.”

Mr. Smouldering extended his hand and Steve could see the entire universe shining in his eyes. 

“Nice to meet ya. I’m Bucky.”

Steve nodded dumbly, and took Bucky’s hand in his—possibly giving the strongest handshake in his life. 

“Thanks again for being my note taker,” he managed to say, finally loosening his grip and letting go of Bucky’s hand.

“No prob. Let’s find a place to sit?”

Sure, as if Steve could concentrate with someone so gorgeous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for joining me on this lil' adventure! I meant to post this much earlier today but technology continues to be stubborn. Luckily, I can be as well and managed to post this! The gorgeous artwork is done by Kitty and Mulder! They've been an absolute joy to collaborate with and I couldn't be happier <3
> 
> I'll do my best to update daily, and if we're lucky, y'all get two chapters a day! 
> 
> I've been working on this baby for months and I really hope you guys enjoy where it goes. Yes, there will be a lot of pain but I promise that a happy ending awaits for our favorite idiots in love! Comments and kudos are much appreciated! Be good out there, in the big wide world. See y'all next time!


	2. the start of something good

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

All in all the only thing I've learned  
Is not to lose myself around the sharpest turns  
I'm not thinking as clearly as I think I should  
But this could be the start of something good

Start Of Something — Scott Simons

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Tell me a lil’ about yourself,” Bucky said as he bit into his sandwich.

Steve’s lip twitched. He assumed Bucky wanted to know more about him as a student, but he couldn’t deny how much their meet-up sounded like a date. It had only been fifteen minutes, and Steve was absolutely smitten—God, if Sam could see him, he’d be teased for months to come. 

“Um…”

_ What a great start, Steve. _

“I’m an art major, if you couldn’t tell,” he said, motioning to his art bag. “And I’m hoping to get into animation. Oh! And this is my first semester.”

“Ah, so fresh outta high school?” Bucky wiped at the corner of his mouth, sucking the stray mustard from the tip of his thumb and  _ oh no _ , Steve hated how much he loved it. 

“Yup,” Steve replied, emphasizing the p with a pop. 

“And how are you likin’ it so far?”

“It’s… a mixed bag.” Steve heaved a sigh. “I love the professors from the art department, and the sociology professor is pretty chill. Bio, though? Kickin’ my ass.”

Bucky snorted. “Luckily for you, I was a bio major?”

Steve flashed him an incredulous look, but immediately shook his head. “Sorry, it’s just. Bio’s hard to wrap my head around. Prof. Johnsen doesn’t make it any easier. Wait…  _ was _ your major?”

“Yeah. Oh, Maria didn’t tell you?” Bucky smiled. “I’m a grad student. Right now I’m studying bioengineering. But I’m more interested in how I can help you.”

“Okay, uh.” Steve bit his lower lip. He knew he had to disclose what he needed and why, but he still hated having to go through the gritty details. “I have shit hearing, and even with my hearing aid, sometimes the professor goes too fast. And then I have neuropathy. It really fucks up my hands, so even if I type, the pain flares up to the point where it’s hard to concentrate. Diagrams help and it doesn't matter if the notes are typed or handwritten, as long as I can read your handwriting.”

Steve kept his eyes down at the table, focusing on his cooling soup. He didn’t want to risk meeting Bucky’s gaze and seeing the pity everyone else gave him. But when he heard Bucky’s voice, he heard genuine concern.

“Wait, what the hell? I thought Johnsen uploaded the lecture slides?” 

To Bucky’s surprise, Steve shook his head. “Not this semester, apparently.”

“Fuck, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear, Steve.” 

“Yeah, but I already tried talking to him about it, and he said that I’m already sitting in the front row of the auditorium.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky looked on in disbelief.

“That’s… that’s so rude and a dick thing to do.” He reached across the table and patted Steve’s shoulder, his hand lingering. “In any case, you got me, and I’m gonna do my best to make sure you pass, alright? You’re lucky I’m amazing at bio, so I could even tutor you if you get stuck.”

“Ah, the two-for-one Barnes special.”

Bucky snickered, then punched Steve’s shoulder lightly. “I’d say it’s a sweet deal. So, remind me when you need me.”

_ How about right now, _ Steve thought.

“Monday and Wednesday. I got sociology from 10 to 12:30, then bio from 1:30 to 2:30.”

Bucky pulled out his phone, presumably to make note of Steve’s schedule. But to Steve’s surprise, Bucky handed his phone over, the screen set on “add contact.”

“Gimme your number. Pretty sure you hate checkin’ your email just as much as I do.”

Steve chuckled at that as he grabbed his phone and put in his number. “There you go.”

“Cool,” Bucky said, taking back his phone. “Any other questions?”

_ Not really. _ But Steve was curious. He could do small talk, right? That couldn’t be so hard.

“So… how come you’re a note taker? Aren’t graduate classes heavy?”

“I guess.” Bucky smiled softly. “But I really love what I’m studying and I’m good at what I do. Besides, I really want to give back to the resource center. They helped me a lot when I was an undergrad.”

Bucky tugged at the fingertips of the glove that covered his left hand—how the hell did Steve miss that?—and pulled it off, revealing metal. He flexed his hand, wriggling his fingers to show off the complex, but beautiful, fluid movement. Steve didn’t mean to stare so long, but once he tore his eyes away, Bucky didn’t seem to mind.

“There’s a bunch of grad students here who are working on prosthetics, and I was lucky enough to participate in the trial. I…” Bucky cleared his throat. “When I was a sophomore undergrad, I was in a really bad motorcycle accident. I had right of way, but this car came out of nowhere. About four hours later, I wake up, left arm gone.”

Steve sucked in a breath. Bucky didn’t need to share this. For fuck’s sake, they were complete  _ strangers _ .

“I had to take an entire year off. But the thing was, I had my parents and my sisters to help me. I had friends that checked in to make sure I was okay. It made the transition from two arms, to one, to a metal replacement… not seamless, but well, easier. And… I know that I was lucky. Not everyone has a support system like that. So I wanna help in any way I can. And luckily for me, I wasn’t left-handed. So I can take all the notes you’d ever need.”

As Bucky’s words sunk in, Steve slumped back in his seat. He didn’t know how to respond, and he didn’t want to say anything cliched like, “you’re so brave.” But he couldn’t think of anything. What do you say to someone who told you something private, when you didn’t do the same? Sure, Steve gave him some information, but it was far from the whole story. He didn’t mention the pain that shoots up his back, or how his heart was fucked despite him being so young.

“You’re amazing,” he blurted out. It was all he could muster, but somehow, Buck seemed to appreciate it.

“So I’ve been told.” Bucky winked. 

That fucker.

“Anyways, I have to get ready for class in a bit.” Bucky wrapped up what was left of his sandwich and put it in his bag. “If you got any more questions, feel free to shoot me a text, ‘kay?”

“Okay. It was nice meeting you. And thanks.”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s all good. If I don’t see you around, I’ll see you Monday.” He saluted with two fingers as he walked away, leaving Steve with butterflies in his stomach and cold soup.

_ I’m so fucked. _

* * *

**Squad**

**Bucky Barnes**

> GUYS  
WE HAVE A CODE RED  
REPEAT CODE RED

**Clint Barton**

> o shit whaddup my dude

**Bucky Barnes**

> THE GUY  
I’M TAKING NOTES FOR  
IS HOT  
WHAT DO I DO   


**Natasha Romanov**

> Relax.   
Ask him out for some coffee

**Bucky Barnes**

> YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND  
HE’S FUCKING GORGEOUS

**Clint Barton**

> Meaning he’s v twink-y

**Bucky Barnes**

> DON’T SHIT ON MY TASTES BARTON  
I WAS REALLY NERVOUS ASKING FOR HIS NUMBER

**Clint Barton**

> no judgment, just telling the truth

**Natasha Romanov**

> Amen to that

**Bucky Barnes**

> SO I GUESS I’LL ASK IF HE WANTS TO STUDY TOGETHER

**Clint Barton**

> If you can figure out what to do why the fuck did you ask

**Natasha Romanov**

> That’s basically what I suggested but ok I guess  
#drama-king

**Bucky Barnes**

> WHEN YOU SEE HIM  
YOU’LL UNDERSTAND

**Natasha Romanov**

> Shut up and go to class

**Bucky Barnes**

> FINE

* * *

**???**

> hey steve! it’s bucky

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey hey!

**Bucky Barnes**

> i had an idea, and feel free to shoot it down  
but i was wondering if we could meet up again  
maybe sunday?  
i just wanna see how far you guys are in class 

**Steve Rogers**

> That’s fine  
I’m gonna be in my dorm all day, so come by whenever

**Bucky Barnes**

> 1pm cool?

**Steve Rogers**

> Perfect   
See you then

**Bucky Barnes**

> see ya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I know I said I'd post every day, but some things have come up that have been keeping me from posting in my personal life, so I hope you understand. 
> 
> Our boys have met! And they're gonna keep seeing a lot of each other, especially when their friends are cheering them on from the sidelines. The next chapter is going to introduce Tony, because of course he's gonna mother hen Steve. 
> 
> Comments and kudos keeps my bamboo plant alive and thriving! It also pleases my cat. Don't forget to subscribe so you don't miss an update!


	3. won't you cave?

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

And all these faces are fake,  
But all these faces you make  
Has got me, has got me living  
This rising design  
Where you pretend you're just fine  
Has got me, has got me caving

Contemplating Caving — Eddie Raphael

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

An easy way to get on Steve Rogers’ Shit List is by waking him up ten minutes before his alarm. Despite being his godbrother and knowing him since they were in diapers, Tony somehow missed the memo. Although Steve wasn’t dreaming—at least, not that he could recall—he realized upon waking that wanted to stay in his bed, cocooned away from the rest of the world. 

“Rogers,” the familiar voice shouted from the other side of his door. “Rogers! Open up!”

“What do you want?” Steve groaned and groped around for his phone, finding it on the nightstand. He focused his vision as best as he could, frowning at the 8:20 staring back at him. 

“C’mon, sleeping beauty!” Now Tony was knocking on the door. Fucking _ fantastic _. “I brought breakfast, and I promise it’s not one of my smoothies!”

With a huff, Steve threw off the covers and got up to open the door. The fact that it was something other than the super healthy smoothies Tony and his girlfriend Pepper made was enough to pique his curiosity. He only opened the door a crack, eyeing Tony suspiciously. 

“Whatcha got?”

“Well, _ someone _ tweeted their 2 a.m. cravings,” Tony said, smirking as he waved a brown paper bag with the famous golden arches. “So, I come bearing two Egg McMuffins and five hashbrowns. I know you said a ‘shitload’ of hashbrowns, but I figured I was already being generous.”

It was too early to smile—how the fuck did Tony manage it?—but Steve did his best. Even though he had a mile-long list of health problems, Steve was still human and craved junk, more often than he liked.

“What about you,” Steve asked. “Did _ you _ have a smoothie?”

Tony rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “Is that all you think I eat? For your information, I had a Denver omelet.”

“I mean, for someone our age your sodium and cholesterol is shit.” Steve grabbed the bag and made his way over to the dining table. “And that’s coming from _ me _.”

“I know, I know. By the way,” Tony went to the counter and grabbed the container of ground coffee. “How’d the disabled student-thingy go?”

“Students with disabilities,” Steve corrected. “And I got a note taker. Met him yesterday. We’re gonna talk more today. He seemed… pretty chill, I guess.” He shrugged as he took a bite out of a hashbrown. “Hey, make enough coffee for Sam, too. He’s gonna want some after his run.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not good to have caffeine after a workout but, eh.” Tony shrugged as he measured out the grounds. 

“And as much as I appreciate breakfast,” Steve began. “What’re you doing here, walking amongst us mortals?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Steve. Not this _ again _.” 

“Relax, Tones. I’m just joking around.” And Steve meant it. But even if Tony knew that, Steve’s words scratched at him.

“Yeah, well.” Tony sighed. “Kinda hard to tell when the last time you brought this up, we had a shouting match.”

“Because.” Steve put down the hashbrown and rubbed the back of his neck. “You coulda gone _ anywhere _, Tony. Harvard. Yale. Fucking overseas. But you’re here at a CUNY.”

“CUNY’s aren’t bad, Steve. Same goes for you. You could've gone to any art school.” 

“I’m not saying that they are—don’t twist my words!”

“But I know what you’re trying to say!” Tony’s face flushed, both from anger and embarrassment. He told himself that he’d never get so worked up about this again. He was just gonna laugh it off, play it cool. But he was admittedly a fool for thinking that Steve would let this go.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no. I didn’t ‘settle’ for a CUNY so I could stick around and look out for you. I’m here because I heard that there’s an awesome T.A. that I wanna collaborate with.”

Steve snorted. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Oh, shut up.” Tony playfully swatted Steve’s shoulder. “But it doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.”

“Either way, good luck. I know you get… determined when it comes to rounding up lab partners.”

“And you bet your skinny ass that I’m gonna get him. Hook. Line. And sinker.” Tony grabbed a cup, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. “So… note taker guy is coming over?”

“Yeah. That’s why my alarm was set at _ 8:30 _,” Steve grumbled. “So I could get some laundry out of the way.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna need more than me.” He opened up the cabinet to get a bigger mug. “Still don’t know how you take your coffee black.”

“It’s bitter, like my soul.”

“Pft. Bitter? You’re more like…” Tony looked Steve up and down. “A chihuahua. A _ really _ angry chihuahua.”

Without missing a beat, Steve crumpled up the hashbrown wrapper and hurled it at him, hitting Tony square in the face.

“See if I get you any more of those hashbrowns.”

Steve stuck out his tongue. “Just hand me my coffee already.”

* * *

“You need anything before I head back out?” Sam asked as he zipped up his jacket. 

Steve shook his head. “Nah. Have fun at the club meeting. Don’t know why you’re meeting on a Saturday.”

“There’s an event welcoming new students,” he said, smiling. “So I figured I could introduce myself. See what abroad programs they have. _ And _... there’s a pretty cute redhead.”

“Oh, so _ that’s _ why you’re going.” Steve smirked as Sam punched his shoulder. “You even know her name yet?”

“Nope. But I will.” Sam flashed a toothy grin. “And as a bonus, you get some alone time with your note buddy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his reddening cheeks betrayed him. “Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got all swoon reading a text.” Sam ignored Steve’s scowl and patted his back pocket, feeling for his keys. “Alright, don’t do anything crazy now. Keep your shirts and pants on.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Once he was alone, Steve slumped on the couch, scrolling through his notes from class. He didn’t have much typed up, but he did the best he could. Hopefully, it was enough for Bucky to gauge how much help he needed. He wanted to do better than just barely passing the class. Sure, a D was technically a passing grade, but that wasn’t going to fly. 

He pulled out his phone and checked the time. _12:47pm._ But just as he was about to put it back in his pocket, Steve’s phone buzzed.

**Bucky Barnes**

> Hey, I’m outside!

Oh. _Shit._

Steve scrambled from the couch, grabbing his laptop and setting it on the kitchen table. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._ He didn’t bother to check how he looked, though he was certain he looked like absolute crap, especially in comparison to Bucky. The brunette’s eyes shone brighter than Steve’s and instantly pierced through him. He had a strong jawline, dusted with dark stubble and his face was framed with thick, dark locks. If Bucky allowed it, Steve wanted to have him pose for a sketch. 

_Focus, Steve. Focus._

He reached for the door and quickly turned the handle, pulling it open.

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He wore a bomber jacket and oh god, why did he have to wear tight jeans? “Sorry. I know I’m here early. But it’s not gonna take that long. Is that okay?”

“Y-Yeah, come on in.” Steve did his best to hide his disappointment. He hated that Sam was right. He was swoon—_so fucking giddy—_when Bucky texted him about coming over. As Bucky walked in, Steve closed the door and sighed. _Calm yourself, Rogers._ “We can sit over here at the table.” Steve moved his tea mug from earlier and his sketchbook over and pulled up his laptop.

“Lemme see what you got so far,” Bucky said as he sat down, making himself comfortable.

Steve opened up his notes doc and surrendered his laptop over to Bucky. As Bucky scrolled away, eyes focusing on every bullet point and highlighted text.

“Okay, so for sociology, you’re on ethnocentrism and culture… for bio… compounds, bonds and isotopes.”

Bucky took out his phone, opened up a notes app and typed some reminders. “Since you have them typed up so far, I’ll keep it in that style. I can add some diagrams on the doc, too. And I think I still have some of my bio old notes somewhere in my drive, so if it’s alright, I’ll send this doc to my email and I can compare notes. See what I could add to yours.” 

“You don’t have to go through all that trouble,” Steve said. “But I really appreciate it.”

“That’s what I’m here for. I agreed to take your notes, and I intend on taking my role seriously.”

_ That’s right, _ Steve thought. _ He’d do this for anyone else. I’m not that special. _

“Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bucky smiled. “No problem.”

Bucky stared at Steve’s sketchbook. While he gathered that the blonde took pride and care over the bound pages, the worn cover and frayed corners showed how much it was used. As Bucky’s eyes wandered, he was met with a cautious gaze. Steve’s hand inched over towards his sketchbook, each movement tentative.

“Normally, I don’t let people peek through my personal one,” Steve said, ultimately pushing his prized possession towards Bucky. 

Bucky shook his head. “You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Trust me.” Steve smiled. “If I didn’t want to show it to you, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Bucky knew what it meant to be flipping through the thick pages. He was going through the depths of Steve’s soul. Bucky was touched to be allowed in Steve’s sanctuary, taking his words to heart. Every page was somehow more beautiful than the last, with some experimental sketches in-between. The one that caught his attention, however, was a sketch of a blonde woman with blue eyes that matched Steve’s. Though he wasn’t well-versed in the arts, Bucky could tell that a lot of time was spent on the portrait, that every etch of lines and colors were done with care.

“That’s my ma,” Steve said quietly. He shifted a bit in his seat and looked down at his folded hands on the table. 

“She’s beautiful.” Bucky looked once more at the picture before closing the sketchbook.

“Yeah, she was.”

Bucky considered Steve’s phrasing, exhaling through his nose. “I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. She was sick for a long time.”

Bucky wanted to say more. Anything. But he couldn’t find the right words to convey his empathy. Steve must have heard “I’m sorry” from everyone he told. Those two words, while having the best intentions, start to lose meaning the more it’s said, the more it’s heard. Bucky knew all too well from experience after he lost his arm. After the first twenty-something times, he wanted to punch a hole through the wall.

He inched his hand over to Steve’s, waiting to see if the blonde would pull away. When he didn’t, Bucky placed his hand on top, thumb gently stroking Steve’s knuckles. Steve’s breathing stilled for a moment, but relaxed at Bucky’s touch.

“Still, it couldn’t have been easy.”

Steve smiled half-heartedly. “You’re right. It wasn’t.” 

“Did… were you alone?”

“No. I had a lot of help, actually.” Steve’s expression softened. “My roommate, Sam—we’ve been best friends since middle school. His ma helped me out a lot, and so did my godparents.”

“I’m glad you had people to help you.” Bucky pulled his hand back, but noticed a change in Steve’s face. He couldn’t quite place it, but wanted to err on the side of caution. Maybe he was making Steve uncomfortable. Maybe he got too close, too fast. 

“Yeah. Sam practically dragged me to the resource center so I could register with them.” Steve’s shoulders dropped. “But I can’t… I can’t help but feel like I should be able to do it on my own.”

“The thing is, you don’t have to.” Bucky’s hand traveled up to Steve’s shoulder. His shoulder felt thin in his hands, but Bucky gave a firm squeeze. “You got people here for you, and you can count on me, too. Okay?”

Steve gaze met with Bucky’s, diving into the blue in search of a hint of sincerity. How many times had he heard that before, only for people to drop the ball? How many _professionals _promised that they’d make things easier? But there was a warmth in Bucky’s eyes, warmer than the hand on his shoulder and the heat rising in his chest. 

“Okay.”

As Steve’s eyes drifted towards Bucky’s hand, Bucky quickly pulled away and cleared his throat.

“So, um, I’ll see you Monday?”

“See you Monday.”

Steve walked Bucky to the door and gave a small wave as Bucky saluted with a two-finger salute. Hearing the door close behind him, Bucky put a little spring in his step. They were getting to know each other better, and while Bucky wanted to hear more about Steve, he was happy with the pace they were going at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, the update took longer than anticipated! I've been all over the place with holiday stuff and on that note, I hope everyone's holiday went over well! 
> 
> These two dorks are crushin' _hard_ on each other? But do they know the other one feels the same? Who knows? <strike>They probably don't, those fools.</strike> Please subscribe to keep up with the story! All the songs in the beginning of each chapter are songs I listened to while writing, so give them a listen???? 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments make me happy, clear my skin, and water my 12-year-old bamboo plant. Feel free to say hi to me on [twitter](www.twitter.com/queerestblues). See y'all next time!


	4. when I wake up, you're still here

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

And I thought, be still my heart  
This could be a brand new start with you  
And it will be clear if I wake up and you're still here  
With me in the morning

Be Still My Heart — The Postal Service

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Steve wondered which god he managed to piss off. The past week had been nothing but bliss. Bucky sat with him in every class and even stuck around for the hour in-between. When Steve asked him if it was okay, Bucky shrugged.

"It's easier this way, and I get to make sure you're understanding everything."

His heart fluttered whenever Bucky spoke and Steve had to control himself, making sure that he didn’t “accidentally” brush his hand against Bucky’s. Just two days ago, he thought he was going to die happily, staring into Bucky’s steel-blue eyes. But now, he found himself in bed, shivering despite being hot to the touch. 

_Fuck my immune system._

Sam knocked on his door and as much as Steve wanted to tell him to come in, all he could do was let out a wet cough. 

“Christ, you sound like a sick dog,” Sam commented. “You stayin’ in?”

“Unfortunately,” Steve muttered. “Do you know what happened to our heating pad? I couldn’t find it.”

“I think it’s in my room. Let me grab it.”

The blonde knew he wasn’t going to die anytime soon. He honestly went through worse in his short life so far. But if death meant not having a hammering headache and a nose clogged to hell, maybe death was a better option. When Sam returned, he cradled the heating pad a few water bottles.

“Here you go.” Sam plugged in the heating pad and set the water on Steve’s bedside table. “Gotta stay hydrated. Did you email your professors?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Bucky?”

“Oh, _shi_t.” Steve pulled out his phone. “I’ll text him now. Go to class already. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Get some sleep, okay?” Sam punched Steve’s shoulder lightly. Steve smiled and swatted his forearm in retaliation. 

“Yes, _mom_.”

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey, Bucky  
I’m not gonna be able to make it to class today  
Caught a real nasty cold

**Bucky Barnes**

> Fuck, I’m sorry man

**Steve Rogers**

> It’s fine  
I just need some rest

**Bucky Barnes**

> Hope you get better soon!

**Steve Rogers**

> Thanks :)

* * *

**Squad**

**Bucky Barnes**

> SO  
Steve is sick  
I’m contemplating bringing him soup  
That’s totally not weird at all right?

**Clint Barton**

> depends on what your intentions are my dude

**Natasha Romanov**

> I think you should ask first  
If you’re free, wanna hang out in the rec room?

**Bucky Barnes**

> So I can get wrecked by you at pool? No thanks  
I got some plans

**Natasha Romanov**

> Oh?

**Clint Barton**

> wanna share with the rest of the class?

**Bucky Barnes**

> Nope :)

**Clint Barton**

> alright then. keep your secrets

**Natasha Romanov**

> Hmmmm  
I WILL find out, Barnes

**Bucky Barnes**

> :) :)

* * *

Bucky wasn’t sure what Steve had, but if there was anything Winifred Barnes taught her son, it was that chicken noodle soup was a great way to soothe most ailments. He was near Steve’s dorm, swinging around the corner when he noticed a bright red car parked in front of the building. A bit flashy for his taste, but Bucky wondered who the hell had such an attention-grabbing thing. He pulled out his phone, sending a text to Steve that he was outside. Was it presumptuous of Bucky to just drop by? Probably. 

But he was going to try his luck.

**Steve Rogers**

> just a sec

Bucky’s face flushed as he tucked his phone back in his pocket, heart pounding. He hoped he looked presentable enough. Maybe he should have checked to see if his hair wasn’t too messy, or if his breath smelled okay or—

“Hey, Bucky.”

_Oh._

There was something endearing in how disheveled Steve’s moppy blonde hair was, and how some of the strands stuck to his forehead. He was bundled up in a sweater and his face was obviously red, in comparison to his usual pale complexion. However, Bucky was wrought with guilt. 

_What the hell is wrong with you? He’s fucking sick._

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky lifted up the plastic bag in his hand. “Figured you could use some soup. Is that okay?”

“Y-Yeah, um. That means a lot, really.” Steve stepped to the side. “Come on in.”

Bucky nodded and followed Steve inside. 

"Hey there, Buckaroo!" Tony extended his hand for a handshake, which Bucky reciprocated. "I'm Tony. I've heard a lot about you the past few weeks!"

"Uh."

Steve threw a plastic fork at Tony. "Shut your gob."

"Don't worry, it was only good things." Tony's eyes traveled from Bucky's face to his hand. "Oh my god that looks so cool! Mind if I take a look?"

"Tony!" Steve fumed. "Bucky, I'm so sorry—"

"—it's okay." Bucky pulled up his sleeve and wriggled his fingers, making Tony's eyes widen in amazement. He reached out and took hold of Bucky's hand, inspecting the plating.

"What's your range of sensation?" 

"I can tell if something's hot or cold. And I've gotten used to the grip."

"Who made the arm?"

"It's still in its experimental phase. A former grad student—Shuri—developed this. She's a bonafide genius. When she was here, she was a teenager. Now, she has a _doctorate_."

Tony let out a long whistle. "I need to track her down. I like to tinker and so far, I got Banner to work on some stuff so maybe this prodigy can give me some pointers." He grabbed his jacket and waved at Steve. “M’gonna go see what I can find. See ya later, Steve! Behave now!”

“Only if you do, Stark!” Steve called out as Tony headed out. 

“Wait, your godbrother is  _ Tony Stark _ ,” Bucky squawked. “As in, Howard’s Stark _son_. As in Stark Industries?!”

“Yeah,” Steve replied sheepishly. “My mom knew his mom. He comes by sometimes to check if I’m still breathing, as if Sam doesn’t do that enough. But it’s nice having people who care.”

“Just… wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So. Um.” Bucky swayed from side to side, not knowing what to say. “Are you feelin’ hungry?”

“A little. I’m gonna grab a bowl. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

As Steve went into the cupboard, Bucky set the plastic back on the table and took off his backpack. His fingers tentatively hovered over the zipper. He didn’t know how Steve would take it, but he wanted to do what he could to help. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Bucky?”

“I… I got you something else.” 

Steve raised his eyebrow, eyeing Bucky with suspicion. “What is it?”

Bucky unzipped his backpack and pulled out a notebook with post-its sticking out. He placed it next to their food, then pushed it forward towards Steve. “I went to your classes this morning, and I took some notes.”

If he wasn’t so close to the counter, Steve’s bowl would have shattered on the floor. He was overflowing with disbelief, and it showed in his widening eyes.

“You… you didn’t have to.”

“I know.” Bucky inhaled sharply. “But I wanted to. I know what it’s like to get behind on work, only for it to snowball.”

For a moment, Bucky wondered if he did the wrong thing. Steve just stared at him, stunned. But Steve surprised him by giving him the brightest smile he could muster.

“You didn’t have to,” he repeated. “But thank you.”

Bucky turned away slightly and scratched at his nose. It wasn’t a hassle on his part. He had nothing to do otherwise, but seeing the gratitude on Steve’s face, as if he performed some kind of miracle made him warm from his ears to his chest.

“So… I should probably let you rest ‘n stuff,” he said finally. He didn’t turn back to see how Steve’s face fell.

“I was thinking, since you’re here and all… maybe we could just hang out?” Steve gestured towards the couch. “I was just gonna find something on Netflix and veg out for the rest of the day. If you’re free, you could join me."

_ Oh god. Is he asking me to Netflix and Chill with him? _

The older man swallowed thickly. “Sure, if that’s okay with you.”

Steve didn’t seem to notice the stupidly wide grin that tugged on the corners of Bucky’s mouth as the brunette settled himself on the couch. After getting a bowl full of soup, Steve sat down next to him and opened up his laptop.

“Whatcha in the mood for,” Steve asked. 

Bucky gave it some thought. "Ever watch The X-Files?”

Steve snorted. "I watched a few episodes, but the beginning of season one was a bit slow for me."

Bucky scoffed. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For your shit taste." He flashed Steve a toothy grin, making the blonde roll his eyes.

"C'mon, give it a chance." Bucky elbowed Steve, nearly knocking him over. 

"_Fine_," Steve sighed dramatically.

As it turns out, The X-Files was as slow as Steve remembered it being. But maybe with age, the pace was something he could appreciate. There was tension in every episode, and he wanted to watch more. He asked a bunch of questions, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind.

“What was up with ‘Spooky Mulder?’ Is that supposed to be menacing or insulting?”

“I guess.”

“Will Mulder and Scully ever be a thing?”

“You’ll have to find out.”

“Wait, does Scully have an Electra Complex?”

“Kind of?”

“Oh! A bottle episode!”

“Please tell me you’ve watched The Thing.”

“Duh.”

They were nestled together, not quite touching but not far apart. If he were a brave man, Bucky would have inched his hand around Steve’s shoulder and pulled him in. But this was okay. This was enough for now. They stayed that way for hours, until the setting sun spilled through the windows. Neither of them noticed that they were lulled into a warm sleep, or how they shifted over time. 

Steve rubbed at his eyes, trying to regain his bearings. He was well-rested and didn’t want to move from his spot. It was too comfortable. Warm. Safe. But the pool of wetness at the corner of his mouth made him sit up and wiped his lips on his sleeve. Only then did it occur to Steve that he was leaning against someone.

“Shit, sorry.” Bucky sat up and brushed off his shirt. “Didn’t think I’d stay here this long.”

“It’s okay.”

Bucky checked the time on his phone. “I should get going. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, a lot better.” 

He didn’t want to admit to the growing excitement in his chest. They napped together. They fucking napped together. Steve wasn’t prepared for that level of vulnerability, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready for his heart to burst.

“That’s great.” Bucky smiled, and that nearly sent Steve over the edge. “I’ll see you when you get better?”

But Steve didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted to get to know Bucky better, and to share parts of himself. Sure, he figured that this was going too fast, but how could Steve _not_ fall for someone who treated him normally? Who made him laugh? Who made him feel at ease? 

“Actually, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have a lecture tomorrow morning, but I’m free after that.” He shot Steve a look. “Why?”

“You’ve already done a lot for me, but I was wondering if you’d let me paint you.”

“Paint me?” He actually wanted Bucky to pose and have his likeness be put up on a canvas for all to see? 

“Well, yeah. You have really striking features and if it’s okay, I’d like to see what I could do.”

“I… I’m flattered,” Bucky said, bashful. “Sure. How long do you need me for?” 

“An hour or two. I um, get it if that’s too much. That’s time you won’t get back.”

“As long as I get to see the finished product, I’m okay with that.”

Steve held out his hand. “Deal.”

He intended for Bucky to shake his hand, but instead, Bucky linked their pinkies together. It was childish in nature really, and yet the innocence of it drew Steve in, as if it were some sort of enchantment.

"See you tomorrow." 

With that, Bucky gathered his things and left Steve alone with his thoughts. He rubbed his hands together, already thinking about tomorrow. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the opening of a door.

"Hey, Steve."

He jumped at Sam's voice. How long had he been back? If he was back, that means he _saw_ them. Steve sunk back into the couch, wishing he could vanish between the cushions and become one with the fabric.

“H-Hey, Sam,” Steve stuttered. “How was class?”

“Fine. Same old, same old,” Sam replied, voice flat. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, swiping through his screen. “But I gotta say, you had a more interesting day than me.”

Sam turned his phone to Steve, offering it to the blonde. Steve took the phone with trembling hands. Upon closer inspection, Steve wanted to die from sheer embarrassment but felt his heart hammering with eagerness. 

He let out a small gasp as he took in the picture. They looked so comfortable, so natural, like puzzle pieces. 

Like it was meant to be.

“Y’know, it’s okay to like him Steve.”

The blonde’s eyes widened, but at the same time, he wasn’t entirely surprised. The photo made it clear as day. After all these years of knowing each other, Sam could read Steve better than most.

“I know,” Steve said, voice barely above a whisper. “But—”

“—but nothing. You deserve love.”

He considered his best friend’s words, knowing them to be true. Most people were deserving of love, he thought. And maybe he was one of them.

* * *

**Squad**

**Bucky Barnes**

> YOU GUYS I’M SO FUCKED  
STEVE WANTS TO PAINT ME

**Clint Barton**

> like one of his french girls?

**Natasha Romanov**

> PFFT

**Bucky Barnes**

> I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE

**Natasha Romanov**

> Just wear something comfortable

**Clint Barton**

> but wat if he wants to  
u know  
paint you nekkid

**Natasha Romanov**

> Stop freaking him out  
Barnes, just flaunt your chiseled physique   
Side note: he probably already likes you 

**Clint Barton**

> make a move

**Bucky Barnes**

> AN ATTEMPT WILL BE MADE  
BUT NO PROMISES

* * *

After making Sam promise to not come back to the dorm until the coast was clear, Steve set up his easel and paints in his room as Bucky tried to find a comfortable pose. Both Sam and Tony have seen him paint before. His peers have definitely seen him going at a canvas with almost every pigment known to man. But he’d never let someone he was romantically involved with see his process. Sure, they saw finished pieces but never the sketches, never the doubt behind each etch of graphite. And yet it was so easy to let Bucky in and Steve wasn’t sure if he hated it or loved it. He felt thrill and anxiety, fear and anticipation.

“So how do you want me,” Bucky asked.

If Steve were brave, he’d speak his mind. He would tell Bucky to lay back on the bed, to _relax_. As much as he was fearless when it came to decking a bully in the jaw, Steve was currently scared shitless 

“The lighting is more important. Just pick something you can hold.”

“How about this?”

Bucky pulled up Steve’s chair and sat so that his chest rested against the back of the chair.

“Hm… turn the chair a bit more to the right. Uh, your right.”

Bucky obliged, then propped up his right arm to rest his chin against the heel of his hand. He let his left arm dangle, giving Steve easy access to its details.

“Settled?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’m gonna start now.” Steve picked up his pencil and held it out at arms length, eyes darting between Bucky and the blank canvas. “You don’t have to be silent, y’know. As long as you don’t move too much, we can talk.”

“What made you get into art?” Bucky asked, watching Steve glide the dark pencil, filling in the emptiness on the canvas. "You never really went into details."

“Well, when you’ve been sick for most of your childhood,” Steve began. “You get really bored of staring at the ceiling. And when you don’t have a lot of friends, you end up using your imagination.”

What was it like to be lonely, to be stuck in a room without being able to go outside? “But you have friends now,” Bucky commented. 

“Yeah, I do,” Steve said proudly. 

Bucky refrained from biting his lower lip. He needed to be bold, to ease into what he really wanted to say. 

“Bet people swoon over your work,” Bucky mused. “From what I’ve seen, I can imagine people loads of people goin’ up to you.”

Steve smiled bitterly as he looked back up at Bucky, then back at the canvas to make some adjustments. 

"I don't exactly have the best track record with people. So far, in my very young life, I have Sam, Tony and two exes.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Bucky quipped, voice laced with mock-astonishment. 

Steve rolled his eyes, making Bucky laugh. “I guess I have you, too. I mean, you’re alright.”

“Just alright? I’ll have you know that I’m the life of the party. In every room I enter, heads turn.”

“Yeah, well. No one really looks for Ichabod Crane. But there was someone.”

Bucky noticed the way Steve’s shoulder fell—immediately, with the weight of a sixteen wheeler truck. The pain of the past shone briefly in the blue eyes Bucky grew to care for. And then he began to wonder if this was a mistake, if he accidentally unearthed something he wasn’t supposed to discover here and now.

"In junior year, there was Peggy. She was a real dynamite, took shit from no one. I’m pretty sure I loved her.”

Oh. A _her_. 

Bucky hid a frown and tried thinking of what Natasha would do to calm his nerves. If she could see him now, panicking at the mention of a past girlfriend, she would probably slap him, then shake him by the shoulders. 

“But one day,” Steve continues. “She calls me and breaks things off, saying that her family was moving back to London. She boarded the plane that afternoon, and I didn't make it to the airport on time to talk it out with her.”

Bucky’s head perked up. “That's…”

Steve shrugged. "I didn't bother calling her, or answering her texts until finally, I couldn't keep it in anymore and gave her a piece of my mind. She said she didn't know how to bring it up and how that was no excuse. Even though I was mad, I told her it was fine. It took a few months to be fine, but I got there. We still talk, once in a while. She even came to my ma's funeral, said she begged her parents to let her fly over here. It was great seeing her, but even if I still had feelings for her, I couldn’t put myself out there like that again. Either way, I heard from Tony that she’s dating someone.”

“That doesn’t sound… _great_,” Bucky said carefully. “But at least you guys are on better terms?”

“Yeah, but the Love Story of S. Grant Rogers gets worse.” Steve “So I'm low. Really low. I just lost my ma, and everyone tried convincing me to take time for myself. My teachers said I could finish over the summer, but I had to keep busy.”

“Well, one day, I take a football to the face. My high school’s star quarterback came over and apologized. At some point, he bought me new Copic markers as an apology. Then we started having lunch together when I didn’t have an art club meeting. He asked me out and I felt like I was on top of the world. I thought, ‘hey, I can bounce back from this.’ But then I told him I was sleeping over at Sam's place for his birthday. He almost snapped my arm tryin’ to hold me back.

"He always wanted to know where I was. We had lunch together every day. He waited for me after school. I tried telling him to back off, that I needed some space. So what does he do? He kicks my ass to the pavement. I put up a good fight, but he was… bigger. Luckily, Sam was looking for me and tackled him. We go to the principal's office, he's kicked off the team and he lost his scholarship.”

“That’s good,” Bucky said firmly. “He deserved that.”

“Not done yet.” Steve’s mouth twisted. “He found out where I volunteered and stalked me every day. I was terrified to leave the house. He's the reason I didn't start in the fall. It gave me time to think… to think that maybe I'm not meant for a relationship. I'm constantly sick, so I'm not that great to be around.”

And that did it for Bucky. He wanted to find all the people that said a bad word about Steve, all the people that looked at him wrong. But he especially wanted to find this piece of shit ex-boyfriend.

“That's bullshit.” Bucky sounded angrier than he intended, but that didn’t matter anymore. He abandoned the pose he was in and stood up. “You're an amazing person, Steve.”

Steve put down his pencil. “Even if I was, most people see a scrawny, sick, poor excuse of a guy.”

“Steve—”

“—it’s true. Who’d want to go out with someone that looks like they’re about to pass out, or be knocked over by a gust of wind?”

“What…” Bucky swallowed thickly. Steve Rogers was a righteous, stubborn ass, and Bucky needed to prove him wrong. 

“What if I want to go out with you?”

Steve stilled for a moment as his breath hitched. “Don’t,” he said. His eyes searched for any sign of insincerity in Bucky’s gaze. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.” Steve almost sounded enraged, but mostly hurt. He needed to make himself bigger than he looked, bigger than he felt. He needed to bare his teeth, just in case he needed to protect himself. “I don’t need pity, especially from you.”

“It’s not pity, Steve. I’m not that kind of person.” Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. His body moved forward, only to stop right in front of Steve. “I mean it when I say I like you.”

The rush of getting up knocked over the easel, but Steve didn’t dare to look away. 

“You…”

Bucky’s cheeks burned. “When we met at the dining hall, that wasn’t the first time I saw you.” The words escaped from Bucky, against his better judgment. His tiny secret was expanding and rising to the surface. 

“What,” Steve urged. “What are you talking about?”

“You left one hell of an impression.” Bucky reached out his hand, fingertips brushing against Steve’s reddening cheeks. To his surprise, Steve didn’t flinch at his touch, but he noticed how the blonde’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He allowed Bucky to cup his face, to linger. 

“Last semester, there was a group of people touring the campus and out of nowhere, a bunch of assholes in MAGA hats started messing with some of the new students. Then, like a bat outta hell, you ran over and threw the first punch.”

Steve’s eyed widened in disbelief. “You _saw_ that?” He hated how his voice cracked, but somehow that made Bucky’s mouth crinkle into a crooked smile.

“Yeah. I was just hanging out with my friends. I thought, wow, that kid’s got the balls to do what others won’t.”

He waited for Steve to say something. Anything. The silence itched at Bucky, more than he wanted to admit. 

“Someone had to let them know they couldn’t get away with it,” Steve murmured as he turned away. “Still can’t believe you saw that, that you remember that.”

Bucky wasn’t one to believe in miracles or destiny. Things happened by chance. At random. At a risk. But he was lucky enough to run into Steve twice.

“I’m glad,” he said, bringing his other hand to Steve’s face, turning his head to soak up the dream come true in front of him. “I’m glad that I got to see you again. Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?” 

“Is it alright if I kiss you?” 

Despite being the one to ask, Bucky’s throat dried up. He begged his body to make a move, but he was at a standstill, barely able to breathe.

Steve must have noticed the nervousness that overwhelmed him, because an ounce of confidence flashed across his eyes. He took hold of Bucky’s collar and pulled him down as he shifted his own weight onto his toes. Their lips grazed against each other, figuring out how they would fit together. But with each kiss, they grew confident. With each kiss, they were certain that this choice, this moment, was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for the large gap in posting. My mental health was declining and the anxiety of posting (or not, in this case) really got to me. Thankfully the mod of the bang is understanding and is okay with me still posting the rest of this fic.
> 
> See you guys next chapter.


	5. contemplating livin'

They were boyfriends now. It was as simple as that. Was it a good idea for a note-taker to date the student they were helping? Probably not. But they both agreed that they couldn’t pretend to be just that, to be just friends. So, Bucky and Steve decided to go out, but to take it step by step. When Sam came back home that evening, he teased Steve endlessly after hearing the news. 

“I _told_ you,” Sam said with a wide grin. “I told you that things would work out.”

“For now,” Steve said. “Things are working out for now.” Despite his doubt, however, Steve couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as Steve got better, they held hands during class. Bucky would stroke his thumb over Steve's knuckles as he jotted down notes with his other hand while Steve slumped back in his seat, delighted. 

Falling into this rhythm of soft touches and longing gazes was as natural as breathing. Looking back, it was obvious that they both held affection for each other, but their insecurities kept them from noticing. But now they get to explore this, explore each other and where their relationship could go. 

After class, Steve and Bucky hung around the dining hall, trying to get some studying done. As Steve went over his notes, Bucky laced their fingers together. 

“Are you free this weekend?” Bucky asked.

The blonde perked up, eyes tearing from his notebook. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking: you, me, and Coney Island.” Bucky smiled softly. “I haven’t been there since I was a kid, and I’ve been thinkin’ we should have some fun.”

“Sounds tempting,” Steve said, inching closer to give Bucky a peck on the cheek. “You gonna win me a prize?”

“Only if you ride the Cyclone with me.”

“Deal.”

* * *

The ride to Coney Island wasn’t too long, thank god. Bucky and Steve managed to snag two seats on the F train, both buzzing with excitement. Bucky was nearly vibrating in his seat while Steve repeatedly tapped his foot. This was their first date, their first outing together-together. And it was as if they were teens, going through their firsts all over again. 

Once they got to the last stop, they stepped off the train, hand in hand, fingers intertwined. The sun shone brightly, making the deep blue water shimmer. Each diamond drop of white bounced on the surface, its soft twinkling beckoning those on the boardwalk. Despite wanting to jump in and feel the sand between his toes, Steve followed Bucky, who seemed to have the day planned out.

“How ‘bout we check out the aquarium? There's gonna be a dolphin show."

"Cool!"

They lined up at the entrance, and as Steve reached for his wallet in his back pocket, Bucky tugged on his hand. 

“I got it,” he said. 

Steve shot him an incredulous look. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

After getting their tickets, Bucky led them through the dimly lit rooms. They found themselves surrounded by families and other couples as they wandered through the hallways. Steve’s eyes widened in wonder. The only time he visited the aquarium was in elementary school, during a field trip. Any other time his mom brought him there, the lights were blinding and the sounds overwhelmed him to the point of nausea. But now, he was able to appreciate the ocean creatures that were presented to the public. Steve found himself drawn to the jellyfish in particular, enraptured by the lit-up tank and its rotating lights bouncing off each of them.

He pulled out a small sketchbook from his bag—one that Bucky hadn’t seen before—and a pencil, quickly getting to work. The tip of the pencil glided across the page, sketching lines and scribbling some notes down in a free space. Bucky glanced at him in curiosity.

“They look so pretty,” Steve mumbled. “And I haven’t drawn jellyfish before.”

Bucky just nodded and waited patiently. 

Once he was finished, Steve tucked the sketchbook away. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” Bucky hooked his arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Seein’ you doin’ what you love ‘n all, you’re cute.”

“Ew. No, I’m not.” The blonde ducked his head, making Bucky laugh softly. He wanted to be mad at being called cute. He wasn’t a child or a small dog rolling around on the floor.

But Steve smiled like a damn fool.

The line at Nathan’s Hot Dogs was massive, as expected given its fame. But Steve and Bucky waited patiently, as it was a must-have. Against Bucky’s wishes, Steve paid for lunch, but they agreed that taking turns wouldn’t be such a bad way to pay for dates. Steve looked at the ground, trying to hide his goofy grin. 

There were going to be more dates.

The line for the Cyclone was longer than Nathan’s. While they waited their turn, Bucky pulled out his phone and tugged at Steve’s arm. He held his phone at an angle,

“To commemorate our first date,” he said, tapping on the camera app. 

Steve stuck out his tongue, but broke out into a small laugh. They took several pictures, some with smiles, some with silly faces. By the time they were next, Bucky texted Steve their favorite selfies. As soon as Bucky turned away, Steve set one of the pictures as his phone background. 

They were escorted into one of the cars. Once the seats were filled, Steve stared at the aged wooden planks. He felt the suspense of the climb and the thrill of the fall, joining in with Bucky, screaming in delight as they were driven forward. 

When they began to slow down, coming to an eventual stop, Steve’s stomach rose to his throat. As soon as he could, Steve got out of the roller coaster car and rushed past the crowd of people to the nearest trash can. 

“Steve!” Bucky caught up to him and winced. “Are you gonna be okay?”

The blonde nodded, spitting out the last bit.

“If I knew you were gonna throw up that much,” Bucky said, handing Steve a few napkins from his bag. Steve took them graciously and wiped his mouth and chin. “We could’ve waited to eat.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay, really. I’d rather be treated like a normal person instead of some antique vase.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re priceless.”

Bucky gave Steve the biggest grin he’d ever seen, and all Steve wanted to do was bask in Bucky’s brightness.

“My god, you’re such a sap.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with me.” God, Steve could look at the way Bucky’s eyes crinkled forever. “For as long as you want.”

“Of course I wanna be stuck with you,” Steve hooking his arm with Bucky’s.

“C’mon.” Bucky pulled Steve along the boardwalk. “I’m gonna get you that prize I promised.”

Steve snorted. “Y’know those games are rigged, right?”

“I’ll have you know I was on the baseball team in high school and I may have won prizes for my sisters,” Bucky said with a smirk. “So I’d say my aim is pretty good.”

As it turned out, Bucky was right. They ended up getting on the train back home with another passenger.

* * *

After Bucky dropped him off at the dorm, Steve fished out his keys from his pocket. In hindsight, he wished he brought a bigger bag to hide the teddy bear Bucky won. Knowing Sam, he’d tease the hell out of him. He opened the door and braced himself, only to sigh in defeat at the sight of both Sam and Tony.

“Look who’s back,” Tony boomed. “Right before curfew!”

“Sooo,” Sam said, wriggling his eyebrows. “How was your date?”

“Fun,” Steve replied, his lips tugging into a smile. 

“Good to hear.”

Tony pointed at the teddy bear. “What’s up with that?”

“Bucky got it for me,” he said. “And if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed. I’ve had the best day ever.”

“Awww, you got a lil’ Bucky bear,” Tony said with a smirk. “I gotta head out anyway. Got a _ long _ day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“See you when we see you.” Sam followed Tony to the door to lock it as Steve made his way over to his room.

He pulled the drawer open and stared at the small, silver container. Steve often did his best to keep from taking his medicine. He hated the metallic taste of his pills and how it felt when they went down his throat. But today was good, almost too good to be true. If he wanted more days like today, he needed to do this. Steve picked up the container gently and unscrewed the cap.

_ Here we go. _

The pills were small, thank god. He took one of the pills and stuck it under his tongue, waiting for it to dissolve. Now all there was to do was wait. If he still felt pain, he knew to ask Sam to drive him to the hospital. 

The pain subsided, and Steve was thankful. That meant he could go to sleep with a higher chance of waking up the next morning. He wanted more mornings. 

He wanted more days with Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all for the wonderful and encouraging messages. You have no idea how much they mean so much to me <3
> 
> Here we are, chapter five. Despite visiting Coney Island a few years ago, I haven’t gone on The Cyclone, or any rollercoaster, actually <strike>and it's probably very obvious</strike>. I’m pretty scared of heights, but I wanna ride one someday!
> 
> <strike>Oh, Steve, why must you be a stubborn ass and not take your meds with you everywhere you go?</strike>
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/queerestblues) and we can talk about stucky together!
> 
> Stay safe, and wash your hands! See y'all next time


	6. wanting a normal day

Everything was going smoothly, despite midterms prowling about the campus. Steve and Bucky studied at the library whenever a room was available. But today, Steve had studio hours and wanted the time to focus on a new piece. 

“I hope you understand,” Steve said over the phone, voice filled with guilt.

“I get it,” Bucky replied. “I’ll probably just hang out around campus. Good luck, Stevie.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna need it.” 

So he found himself walking around with Natasha, accompanying her to a club meeting. 

“When do I finally get to meet this boyfriend of yours?” Natasha asked. 

“Boyfriend,” Bucky mumbled to himself as red tinged his cheeks. The sound of that was fresh every time he heard it, and he couldn’t get enough. Natasha snorted, elbowing Bucky’s side.

“Bashful’s a good look on you, Barnes. Who knew.” She flashed him a wicked grin.

“Oh, shut up.” Bucky rolled his eyes, but kept smiling.

“I mean it.” She did. Bucky could see it in her eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

“Hey,” Sam called out, slightly jogging after them.

Natasha smiled softly. “Hey.”

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Bucky asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re in the same club,” Natasha said. 

“Oh, well.” Bucky motioned towards Natasha. “Sam, this is my best friend, Natasha. Natasha, this is Steve’s best friend, Sam.”

“Awww, I’m your best friend,” she teased, making Bucky stick out his tongue. She turned to Sam, still smiling. “And, you’re friends with the boyfriend. That means we can give shovel talks to these idiots.”

Bucky did his best to hold in a snicker. Natasha rarely smiled--well, rarely in earnest, in front of people that weren’t him or Clint. But just as Steve was good for him, maybe Sam was good for her.

“So what are you guys doing this Friday, around 3,” Sam asked. “Steve and I were thinking about having a study session at the library. Y’all are welcome to come.”

Bucky grinned. “Whatdaya say, Nat?”

“Sure,” she said rather quietly.

“Is it alright if we bring a roommate of ours? I swear he’s really chill, and he could use some motivation.” Bucky watched as Sam tilted his head in contemplation.

“I feel that on a spiritual level. It’s cool with me. So Friday at 3. See you guys there.” He tossed his head at them as he walked away, heading to wherever he was going.

Bucky stared at Natasha, noticing how she was still staring in Sam’s direction.

“Y’know,” Bucky started, once Sam wasn’t within earshot. “Bashful’s a good look on you too, Romanov.”

With a scowl, Natasha brought her hand to Bucky’s face and flicked his forehead. “Shut up.”

* * *

Sure enough, everyone shows up at the library. Bucky and Natasha brought Clint along, bribing him with the promise of a night of drinks on them. Steve sat down next to Bucky, naturally, knocking their knees together from time to time. Their friends rolled their eyes as they scribbled in their notebooks and flipped through their textbooks. They made progress, writing legible notes and doing their best to understand their subjects. But as the sun started going down, they were growing restless. 

“God, I just want this to be over,” Bucky grumbled as he rested his head on the table. “Steve, don’t get a Ph.D. unless you plan on selling your soul.”

“Aww, my poor baby,” Steve said, running his hand through Bucky’s hair. 

“Baby,” Clint repeated. “He’s  _ older _ than you.”

Steve shrugged, fingers still rubbing Bucky’s scalp, earning a moan of relief. “Doesn’t mean I can’t spoil him.”

“You guys are gross,” Sam grumbled, throwing a crumpled post-it towards them. “Go be sickeningly sweet lovers somewhere else.”

“Maybe we should stop for now,” Natasha mused. “We could get something to eat.”

“We could go to Picnic Garden,” Clint offered. “I’ve been craving Korean barbecue. That marinade--the sweetness, the soy sauce, the sesame oil.” He shivered in delight at the thought of it.

“Fuck, that sounds so good.” Bucky turned to Steve. “Whatcha think?”

“Yeah, we can do that."

Clint clapped his hands. “So it’s settled! Let’s go!” 

Everyone gathered their things, shuffling their notebooks and laptops into their bags. Clint whistled on their way out, nearly bouncing with every step.

“Y’know,” Sam began. “I wish I had at least half of his energy.”

“No you don’t,” Bucky snickered. “It’s almost like watching a five-year-old.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Clint backed up and swatted Bucky’s shoulder.

“C’mon, slowpokes,” Nat said, walking in front of them. “We already burned daylight. We don’t wanna let the night go to waste.”

* * *

Picnic Garden, while crowded, managed to have a table for the five of them. Clint, being the glutton that he was, brought back three plates of various meats to grill while Natasha, being more responsible, brought back twice the amount of vegetables. 

Unsurprisingly, Tony’s car was parked outside, and they could see through the window that the light was on.

Sam groaned. “What do you think he wants? I don’t think my brain can handle Tony’s mannerisms.”

“Same,” Steve sighed as he opened the door.

Sure enough, Sam and Steve were greeted by Tony, drinking their coffee, as always. 

“Sammich. Steve-o.” Tony downed the rest of his coffee. “Was wonderin’ what you kids were up to.”

“It’s midterms,” Sam deadpanned. “We were studying, then we went out for dinner.”

Steve didn’t bother to be part of the conversation. Instead, he opted to go to his room and change out of his jeans. But as he unbuckled his belt and tugged at the waistband, Steve felt a twinge in his chest. Sometimes, he felt a sharp pain—particularly after one too many cups of coffee and other acidic foods. But this was different. This lasted longer and felt more intense. 

“Hey, Steve,” Sam said, eyes focused, but calm. He entered Steve’s room slowly, with Tony following right behind him. “You need me to take you to the emergency room?”

“I think I’m okay.” Steve gulped and took another deep breath. “I’ll take my medicine before going to bed. If it gets worse, I’ll see someone about it. Promise.”

“You better,” Tony chided. “We’re holding you to it.”

“Promise,” Steve repeated. He looked back towards his doorway. “G’night, guys.”

Sam and Tony knew that tone. Steve wanted them to leave him alone, to let him deal with this,  _ alone _ .

“Alright.” Sam said. “Night.”

After closing Steve’s door, Tony scrunched up his face. “He probably just said that to get us off his back.”

“I know.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. He hated when Steve downplayed his pain. He always did, and it pissed him off every time. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Tony nodded, heaving a sigh. “God, he’s such a stubborn little shit.”

“Yeah, but he’s our stubborn little shit.” Sam snorted.

And Steve would always be their stubborn little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <strike>I side ship Sam/Nat sue me.</strike>
> 
> Also Picnic Garden is a real place in Flushing. I’m not too familiar with KBBQ places in NYC, but I have a special place in my heart for Picnic Garden. It’s a bit pricey, but they have more than just meat (seafood, vegetarian options, all the sides included). They’re not a sponsor but ahh, do I miss that place. 
> 
> Anyways, comments and kudos keep me hydrated! See y'all next time! Don't forget to wash your hands and stay inside as much as possible.


	7. fall around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was posted via phone so please forgive any formatting errors.

Their books had fallen to the floor, not that Steve or Bucky cared. Bucky came by earlier in the afternoon, promising to model for his boyfriend again. He should have known better, to be honest, because as soon as Steve led him to his room, he noticed those blue eyes raking over him. It took all about ten minutes before their brief touches and chaste kisses turned heated. Their hands roamed with curiosity, determined to learn what would make the other squirm. They spent a good chunk of time breathing each other in, unwilling to pull away.

Steve, through a stroke of luck, found that Bucky’s chest was sensitive. Even with the lightest touch over his shirt, Bucky moaned into the kiss. 

“Not fair, Stevie,” Bucky murmured. “I jus’ wanted to help you with your portfolio. Now you got me all hot ‘n bothered.”

“Can you really blame me?” Steve smirked. “Especially when you’re a fuckin’ Adonis.”

Bucky snorted. “I know I got a great face, but Adonis is pushin’ it.”

“Shut up and kiss me some more.”

Tongues slid together, wet and teasing. Bucky didn't want to remember anything else but the taste of Steve's mouth and how the blonde sounded when he chose to pin him down. Before they realized it, Steve's legs were spread, rocking upwards against Bucky's thigh, shaft hardening through denim. Bucky granted him some relief by meeting each thrust. He could tell Steve wanted more—and he did, too—and if the world came to a halt, Bucky would spend the rest of eternity giving Steve everything he wanted.

But the alarm on Bucky's phone grounded them back in reality.

“C’mon, Steve," Bucky said between kisses. "I gotta go and get ready. Family dinner tonight.”

Steve nearly pouted as he tugged at the hem of Bucky's shirt. “Would your parents miss you one week?”

“My ma wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.” He could hear her now, feigning pain at her only son ignoring a Barnes family tradition, claiming him to be hell-bent on tearing the family apart. 

“Okay.” Steve leaned back, releasing Bucky from his grasp. "But don't think I'll let you slip away so easily next time."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Unsurprisingly, when Bucky went back to his apartment, he could hear Natasha and Clint bickering before he walked in the front door. Bucky sighed. All he wanted to do was shower before he went to his parents' place.

“C’mon, Nat,” Clint groaned. “Just admit it already!”

“There’s  _ nothing _ to admit!” Natasha picked up a cushion from the couch and threw it in Clint’s direction. Bucky entered the living room with caution. Natasha was never one to lose her cool, so he wondered how long this conversation had been going on.

“Uh, guys,” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Thank god, Bucky.” Clint gestured towards himself, then Natasha. “Settle this for us. What do you think of me and Nat?”

“You two?” Bucky tilted his head. “I mean, you’re like an old married couple… but not.”

Natasha threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

“Right!” Clint squawked. “I’m the husband without the benefits! And I’m more than fine with that but Natasha… you gotta get your ass out there and take a risk!”

“I’ve taken plenty of risks,  _ Clinton _ .” Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Just follow your own advice! Remember what you told Bucky? What’d she tell you, man?”

Bucky scrunched his nose. “A lot of things. You gotta be more specific.”

“Coffee,” Clint sighed. “She told you to ask Steve to get some coffee when you were going gaga over him—and you’re right, he’s gorgeous. But that’s a whole other conversation.”

“What? I gotta worry about you trying to steal my boyfriend?”

“No. We’re worryin’ about Natasha being completely unable to ask Sam out for some coffee!”

“I knew it,” Bucky said, smiling a bit. His smile disappeared, however, when Natasha whipped her head around and glared at him.

“It’s not that easy,” Natasha muttered through gritted teeth. Bucky glanced down, noticing how her hands were balled into fists, trembling down at her sides. “You know that.  _ Both _ of you should know that! I can’t let just anyone in!”

“You let us in,” Clint pointed out. “And let’s face it, we’re idiots.”

“Excuse you," Bucky clarified. "I’m a hot mess. You're an idiot."

Clint ignored him. "What happened to ride-or-die Natasha? Or have-a-fling-without-making-it-awkward-Natasha?"

The redhead bit her lower lip. Her past was checkered at best, filled with a painful childhood and guilt from choices she made. She had told Clint and Bucky senior year about it and it was the most open she'd been. Aside from them, she didn't bother getting close to others. All other relationships were on a no strings attached basis. But Bucky could see how this was different. This was bothering her on a level they'd never seen.

“He’s just…” Natasha huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You can just tell that he won’t judge you. But relationships take honesty and trust and I don’t know how to do that. You guys give me space when I need it and you don’t think I’m some emotionless robot.”

“I know it’s different,” Bucky began. “But you managed to talk to us. Sure, there’s some assholes out there in the world. Sam, though? He’s not one of them.”

“You’re a good judge of character, Nat. So just get some coffee with him and feel it out. Give it a chance.”

“And if things don’t work out, we’ll still be here.”

“I hate it when you guys are right,” she said with a wry smile. “It annoys me to no end.”

“We annoy you because we love you. You’re stuck with us.” Bucky put an arm around her shoulder, pulling Natasha in for a hug.

"And for the record," Clint began with a grin. He joined in on the hug, wrapping his arms around them

"I'll always be your boyf without the benefits. Being your friend is already the best thing."

Natasha scrunched her face and shoved them away. "You guys are gross. I love you."

"We love you, too."

* * *

**Steve Rogers**

Heyhey

How’s dinner with the fam?

**Bucky Barnes**

heya stevie :)

it’s pretty good!

but it’d taste better with you here

(don’t tell my ma that)

**Steve Rogers**

Your secret is safe with me handsome

**Bucky Barnes**

oooh a compliment

expecting something in return, rogers?

**Steve Rogers**

Hmm… Do you know where Strand is?

**Bucky Barnes**

by nyu right? wanna meet there?

**Steve Rogers**

Yeah. How does 10 sound?

**Bucky Barnes**

perfect. good night steve.

**Steve Rogers**

Night Buck

* * *

The next morning was wonderfully bright. There were some clouds that lingered, faintly floating against the sky, but the weather was promising. Bucky made sure to say goodbye to his family before leaving, only to have his face reddening as his sisters teased him out the door. All he did was mention Steve in passing, and they hounded him. But Bucky didn't regret bringing Steve up for a second. He was happy to announce that Steve was his boyfriend and that they were serious about each other. Sure, they were going a bit fast, but if felt right.

The train ride was standard fare, nothing too exciting. Given the weekend, it was crowded, everyone heading towards Manhattan. By the time he got off the train, a number of people got off with him. As he walked up to the street, he wondered what Steve wanted to see at Strand. They had a large collection of books, and the store itself had been standing since the late 1920s. Maybe they had the artbook he was talking about the past week.

A car honk brought Bucky out of his thoughts.

People honked their horn all the time, frustrated at other drivers and pedestrians alike. But this was different. Each blaring note was short and harsh, clearly trying to get someone's attention.

"Bucky!"

He whipped his head, surprised to see Clint and Natasha in her car across the street. Bucky jogged over to them, wondering what they were doing in this part of the city.

"What's up?"

Their faces were tense. Even Natasha, whose poker face was indecipherable, was chipping away.

"James," she said softly, though her expression betrayed her. "Get in. Driving's gonna be faster."

Bucky's stomach coiled up. He hated when she called him James. She reserved that name for serious situations, for when shit hit the fan.

"I'm supposed to meet—"

"—it's Steve." Natasha's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Sam called. He… he's in the hospital."

The world fell around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm sorry_


	8. a prayer for tomorrow

Bucky didn’t remember getting out of the car, or how Clint grabbed his wrist, pulling him along as Natasha led them to the waiting room. She mentioned that Sam was waiting for them, but Bucky continued to run on auto-pilot. The harsh, mocking hallway lights and the too sterile floors solidified that he was indeed at the hospital. But with every scrub-clad nurse and white-coated doctor they passed, Bucky wanted to run in the opposite direction. 

The first time Bucky remembered being in a hospital was when his second sister, Bernie, was in breech. His father's face spilled with worry as he held onto both him and Becks. Thankfully, both Bucky's mother and sister were fine, but the image of his father's face burned into his memory. 

The second time Bucky visited the hospital, his grandmother—God rest her soul—suffered from a stroke with no hope of recovering. They stayed in her room until she passed, the room filled with shuddering breaths. 

And then, the accident happened. When he woke up in the intensive care unit, Bucky was drugged out of his mind. He vaguely remembered the pain he felt before blacking out. Bucky tried rubbing his face, frustrated that the drugs kept him from feeling anything. But then he realized that it wasn’t drugs. He saw his whole left arm missing. Desperately, Bucky grabbed at his left shoulder, screaming at himself to wake up. He was so sure it was all a nightmare until nurses rushed in.

So yes, he had every right to be afraid of this place. He couldn’t bear to blink in fear of finding himself in a room with Steve hooked up to machines, hearing every beep as those damned things breathed for him. 

They pass through the sliding double doors and see Sam. As Sam raised his head to greet them, Bucky saw that his eyes were shamelessly red, with a few tears still clinging onto his eyelashes.

“I’ll go get some drinks. Be right back,” Clint said as he let go of Bucky. Without having someone else holding him, Bucky’s arms stayed firmly at his sides, heavier than he could imagine.

“Steve would want me to lie and tell you guys he’s fine,” Sam said bitterly. “But he’s not here to stop me. He… it’s bad. Steve fucking  _ coded. _ ” His lips trembled as his voice cracked on the last word, as if he didn’t want to believe it himself. But Sam was there when pain and confusion flashed across Steve’s face. He was there when suddenly, Steve wasn’t breathing. His eyes had glossed over as a nurse ran in, frantically checking Steve’s vitals. He was there, helpless as Steve laid motionless. Despite the nurse yelling at him to leave the room, Sam was there to shout Steve’s name in vain, in hopes of waking up his best friend so that he didn’t have to hear the dreaded two words over the intercom: code blue. 

“He’s in surgery right now. Tony’s on his way.” Sam wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “He said he had to call his parents first, then he’d come.”

Bucky stared at the floor, feeling himself being pulled down. 

_ Today was supposed to be a good day. _

“C’mon, let’s sit down,” Natasha said, pulling at Bucky’s arm. He nodded, but moved slowly. Shortly,  when Tony arrived, he was breathing heavy and shallow, nearly stomping with every step. His mouth was twisted, as if he were holding back a scream. 

“Hey,” he said, voice tight. “Called up dear ol’ dad. Said they’d book the next flight home. Figures they’d be outta town when shit hits the fan.”

“They couldn’t have known,” Sam sighed. 

“Yeah, well.” Tony turned to the side and kicked a chair, making them jump. 

“Cut it out.” Sam rubbed his face. “Last thing we want is to get kicked out of here.”

“We could’ve kept this from happening, Sam!” Tony’s voice echoed in the room, earning the attention of others. “We should’ve brought him in days ago!”

Natasha squeezed Bucky’s hand, then looked over at Sam, confused.

“Steve, he… he didn’t feel good the day before yesterday,” Sam explained. “He was having a hard time breathing. Or maybe his chest hurt. He didn’t tell us what it was, but he said he’d call his doctor if it got worse. Cut to this morning, he was in the kitchen and I heard something crash. He was on the ground, sayin’ his chest hurt. Brought him straight over here and… Steve just kept getting worse.”

_ Today was supposed to be a good day. _

“Stubborn shit,” Tony muttered.

“Uhh…” Clint came back, arms full of drinks and snacks. Everyone eyed him, amazed that he could carry that much. He laid out everything on a chair. “I didn’t know what everyone wanted so I just… got this.”

“Thanks.” Natasha grabbed a water for herself and passed Bucky a Snickers bar. He didn’t feel like eating it, but didn’t have a choice as Natasha opened the wrapper. Sam took a bag of Chex mix, chewing each piece individually as if to give himself something to think about. Tony refused any of the drinks. Not because he was above vending machines, but the drinks that were left had caffeine. 

“I already had my fill,” he said. "Thanks, though."

Steve had told Bucky once that Tony’s caffeine intake was insane and the reason why he and Sam had so much coffee and tea in their dorm. 

Steve.

Bucky wanted to see him, and waiting was so fucking painful. He couldn’t bring himself to mindlessly browse on his phone, although Natasha kept indirectly pestering him by sending cat memes. Natasha, prepared as always, had two different phone chargers and was happy to share with everyone. Tony typed away on his laptop, muttering something about keeping his sanity as he switched between tabs and consoles. Luckily for Clint and Sam, they found that they played the same mobile games and added each other.

“Wilson?”

As soon as Sam’s head shot up, everyone else gave attention. He stood up from his seat and immediately went over to the front desk.

“Wilson?” The nurse repeated. “Dr. Miller is ready to speak with you out in the hallway.”

“Thank you.” Sam motioned for everyone to go with him. As Clint stood up, however, Natasha pulled him back.

“We’ll wait here,” she said to Bucky. He nodded, then followed behind Tony.

The doctor was taller than Bucky expected somehow. He looked at the three of them, looking somewhat confused.

“Are you here for Steve Rogers?”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “Steve’s emergency contact and roommate. This is Tony, his godbrother, and Bucky, his boyfriend.”

“Hm. Very well.” Dr. Miller adjusted his glasses. “As you must know, Steve has a history of heart problems. After looking at his chart, we’ve concluded that he had a severe unstable angina that triggered a heart attack. He also has a family history of diabetes, so we opted to perform a bypass. I’m happy to say that it was successful and he’s now in recovery.”

The three of them heaved sighs of relief, but the doctor continued.

“We’ll be keeping him overnight and monitor him closely. The nurse can give you a detailed explanation on the procedure when you see him tomorrow.”

“We can’t see him today?” Tony asked.

“I’m afraid not. The surgery took a lot out of him, so he’ll need all the rest he can get.” The doctor looked truly sorry. “I know this all sounds terrifying, but as long as there’s no further complications, you’ll be able to see him first thing tomorrow. We can have someone call you as soon as he’s assigned a room.”

Bucky didn’t catch what the doctor had said afterward. Instead, Dr. Miller’s words repeated over and over again. He’s in recovery. He’s in recovery. Steve’s in  _ recovery _ . If he didn’t have any self-control, Bucky would have crouched on the ground and cried. 

Dr. Miller wished them the best, then left the three to themselves.

“Holy shit.” Tony rubbed his face, sniffling. 

“Thank  _ god _ ,” Sam breathed out, eyes tearing up once again. “Thank  _ fucking _ god.” He turned to Bucky. “You okay man?”

At first, all Bucky could do was nod his head. But a small cry slipped past his lips and before he knew it, tears streamed down his face. All the weight that kept him numb, kept him from moving, flooded out. Sure, he hated that he had to wait until tomorrow to see Steve. But there was the promise of tomorrow.

“So. Uh.” Tony sighed. “Looks like mom and dad aren’t gonna be here until tomorrow night. It’s a long ways back to campus, so how ‘bout a sleepover Sam?”

“I could use that,” Sam admitted. “It’d be a pain to commute that far.”

“What about you?”

Bucky wiped his face, trying desperately to not look up until he was somewhat composed. “Huh?”

“Wanna crash at my place,” Tony said. “Totally cool if you don’t want to. I just figured it might be easier for us to come back here together.”

It was well known that Stark was loaded and had the room to spare for half the city. But no matter how comfortable Stark’s couch might be, Bucky was certain that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep.

“It’s okay. I can make it back and forth from my place.”

Tony let out a low whistle. “Alright, suit yourself. Offer stands, though.”

“Gimme your number.” Sam pulled out his phone, ready to put it in his contacts. “I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

After exchanging numbers, Tony and Sam left together while Bucky went back to the waiting room. He filled in Natasha and Clint on the situation and watched as Clint’s eyes widened while Natasha’s face tensed. 

“What the hell…” Clint folded his arms over his chest.

“C’mon.” Natasha patted Bucky’s back. “Let’s grab something to eat and go home, okay?”

“Okay.”

Today was supposed to be a good day. Bucky prayed for tomorrow to be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This was another sad chapter but Steve's okay, I promise!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! They honestly make my day, especially so in this hellhole that we're in right now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Take care of yourselves! <3


	9. darling, kiss me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to [kittyandmulder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyandmulder/pseuds/kittyandmulder) for their lovely art and for being so understanding! Be sure to give them lots of love and follow them on [twitter](https://twitter.com/KittyandMulder)!

The night was grueling. It didn’t take a genius to predict that Bucky didn’t sleep much, not that he really tried. At first, he wanted to smother himself in his blankets and pillows. The next thing Bucky knew, all his sheets were on the ground. He tossed and turned for another two hours before giving up on sleep altogether. While this wasn’t his first sleepless night, this was definitely a top contender. 

As quietly as he could, he snuck out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and took it back to his room. He stayed at his desk, fiddling with some brain teaser puzzles Natasha gave him for his birthday during their first year at college. The metal loops were cold in his hand as he worked them, trying to separate each one from the other. His motions were mostly mindless, without purpose or true determination to solve the puzzle. But it was better than simply staring up at the ceiling.

Bucky ended up solving the puzzle five times, resetting it each time. Once the dim, but growing, sunrise lit up his room, he went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He let the cool water run over his right hand, flexing and closing it repeatedly before cupping both hands together to wash his face. With just a glance, Bucky frowned at his reflection. While not completely unpresentable, his stubble was starting to show. But he could deal with that later. After a few more splashes of cold water onto his face, he patted his face dry then returned to his room to change. Picking out what to wear was simple, given that he was prioritizing comfort over style. He didn’t want to go through all of his clothes, and just picked a clean shirt, jeans and his hooded jacket. Steve would be happy just to see him, right? What Bucky wore wasn’t going to matter.

“Mornin’,” Natasha said with a yawn as Bucky walked past her. “Late night?”

“You could say that.” Bucky zipped up his jacket, then shoved his hands in his pockets. He wondered why they were up so early, especially since neither of them were early risers.

“We could go with you,” Clint offered. 

Oh.

Clint poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Natasha, but held off on pouring another one. “We can go after makin’ some breakfast. It’s still really early.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky patted himself down, checking for his keys. He appreciated the gesture. He really, really did. But Bucky was going to do this himself. “I’m gonna walk a bit then head over. I’ll be back later.”

And he left just like that, without another word or a bite to eat. As he trotted down the apartment building stairs and further underground to the station, the only thing on his mind was  _ SteveSteveSteve _ . He was going to finally see his boyfriend. All he wanted was to hold him and let him know that everything was going to be okay now. He’d help Steve through anything and everything. 

The train ride was only a few stops, thankfully. All he had to do was walk a few stops and there Steve would be. Bucky was still too agitated, though, and needed to clear his head. He must’ve circled a few blocks at least fifty times before finally heading into the hospital, dread pumping into his veins. Bucky headed straight for the information desk, asking for the floor Steve would be on. Immediately, he went to the elevator, stepping in and waited until it reached the seventh floor.

As he rushed out of the elevator and entered Steve’s room, Bucky couldn't stop the gasp from slipping past his lips. It was Bucky's nightmare come to life. The beeping monitors and the soft whirring of the IV as it adjusted to administer the right amount every time was a lot to take in. Then there was Steve, who looked so small and lost. He was bigger than life itself, full of fury and walking to the beat of his own drum. But now, his energetic spirit shrank, dissipating faster than Bucky could bear.

He knocked on the doorframe, letting his presence be known. When Steve looked up to meet his gaze, he looked at Bucky in confusion.

“Bucky,” Steve said as he tried sitting up, only to slide back down in his bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you sound so surprised,” he asked. Bucky fully stepped into the room, still struggling to take in the view before him. Slowly, he approached Steve and sat on the edge of the bed. “Of course I wanted to see my best guy.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he met with Bucky’s gaze. 

“It’s okay.” 

Bucky wasn’t sure where Steve was going with this, but he felt his stomach tightening. The blonde’s somewhat calm demeanor certainly didn’t help. 

“I’m not expecting anything from you.”

Bucky’s face fell. “What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Buck.” Steve smiled bitterly, his mouth almost pressed into a thin line as his eyes looked on, hollow. “Look at me.”

He leaned forward and tilted his head. With a trembling hand, he cupped Steve’s face, stroking his thumb over his cheek. “I  _ am _ looking at you.”

“That’s not what I…” Steve huffed. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pull away from Bucky’s touch, but he couldn’t keep himself from melting into it. Even with his still-hazy vision, Steve could make out the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes. “You don’t need this… this mess in your life.”

For a second, Bucky wondered if it was a test, but something felt off. This was different. This was a wall that Steve wanted to build between them to soften the pain. If he got to call the shots before Bucky made a move, he’d be less hurt. But it wasn’t going to work. Not in a million years. He scooched closer and pulled Steve into his arms, being mindful of the IV. 

“Don’t. Just… don’t.” Bucky rubbed Steve’s back in circles, feeling the blonde tremble. “M’not gonna leave you, Stevie. You mean so much to me.”

“I…”

Even though Bucky couldn’t see Steve’s face, he felt the front of his shirt becoming wet. And that told him enough.

“I was so scared,” Steve hiccuped into his chest. “I thought, I-I thought I was gonna—”

“I know.” Despite trying his best, Bucky’s tears came. He swallowed back a sob, only for it to come out again. “I was scared, too. I just got you. I don’t want to lose you.” 

He pulled away, just enough to cup Steve’s face in his hands. Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s forehead, then moved to his tear-stained cheeks. More than anything, Bucky wanted to show Steve how much he treasured him. He wanted to show that there was nothing that could ever stop Bucky from wanting him. 

But Steve knew he wasn’t the only one in pain. Steve pulled Bucky closer, needing to feel him as reassurance, to prove to himself that he was really there with him. And they stayed like that for a good while, until they heard another knock at the door and pulled away from each other.

“Sorry it took us so long,” Sam said with a sigh. He glanced over at Bucky, who just smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was on the phone with mom. Her flight is coming tonight, so she’ll come by tomorrow. She was worried, man. Don’t you ever scare us like that again,” Sam’s voice wavered. “You can’t…”

“I’m sorry,” was all Steve could offer.

“We’re gonna have  _ words _ .” Tony gestured to himself and Sam. “I’m a thousand percent sure our moms had conniption fits when we called them.”

“You know my mom.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s  _ not _ gonna give you a souvenir from her vacation for at least a week.”

“How about you guys lay off.” Steve’s cheeks tinted red hearing the protectiveness in Bucky’s voice. He stared Tony and Sam down, brows furrowed. “Steve’s been through enough. He doesn’t need you guys to lay into him like that.”

While Steve agreed he’d gone through enough to last him several lifetimes, a twinge of guilt struck through his chest.

“No, they’re right,” he said quietly, head hung down in shame. “I had some chest pain but I didn’t say anything.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he turned to clutch onto his hand. “Steve…”

“I won’t do it again,” Steve promised. “I mean it.”

“Damn right you aren’t.” Tony opened up his bag, rummaging through it. “Now c’mon, I’ve come with a little gift. You probably haven't eaten yet, so you get a treat.”

Steve scrunched up his face. “M’not a dog, Tony.”

“Fine, I’ll keep this sugar free chocolate turtle to myself then.” He pulled it out of his bag, waving it in front of Steve, who shrugged. “By the way, mom wants you to move back home for the rest of the school year. No dorming for you.”

Steve scowled. “... and if I don’t want to?”

“You don’t have much of a choice,” Sam interjected. “It’s either you’re back at home with Tony, or you’re coming with me.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll give you privacy to have some make-out sessions with your boyfriend.” Tony turned to Bucky and winked. “Of course, you’re gonna have to wait until the docs say it’s a-okay, Buckaroo.”

“ _ Uggghhhh _ , you guys…”

They spend a good amount of time bickering with nurses and doctors shuffling in and out, trying to come up with a plan for Steve. So far, he was stable and if he feels better in another three days, he could be discharged. Steve understood that all of this was a precaution, given his diabetes and overall terrible health. Deep down, he didn’t really mind talking about it so openly, because Tony and Sam knew his history. Bucky, on the other hand, was new to this. What if this was too much and Bucky was too nice to say anything? He wanted to trust Bucky’s word so badly, with every fiber of his being. Steve  _ needed _ it to be true. 

But Steve was human, and he had doubts. 

The sky was warming in color. Steve felt some pain in his chest, so they called a nurse in to give him something for the pain. Afterwards, Sam and Tony left about an hour before the hospital was closed for visitors, giving Bucky and Steve another hour alone together. 

“This isn’t the first time I almost died,” Steve said. It was so matter-of-factly that it left Bucky unnerved and not knowing what to say. So he waited for Steve to finish.

“I was raised Catholic,” he continued, breaking the silence. “Whenever I ended up in the hospital, the chaplain would come in, and we’d pray. Once… a nun at the Catholic school I went to said that God gives everyone a test and that if you just prayed to Him, He’d grant you peace.”

Upon hearing that, Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist, jaw clenching. It was a rage he hadn’t felt in years, but one that he tried so desperately to extinguish. He had heard that line before in his own life and he hated it. If God was supposed to be kind and merciful, why would he put those who believe in Him through so much pain?

“I used to believe that,” Steve continued. “But after my mom got sick… She was the best person ever. She was so selfless and understanding. So why did she get sick and die? I prayed every night for her to get better, but nothing happened. After that… I just couldn’t believe anymore. If God was so loving, why didn’t he help her get better, or anyone else that needed Him? And then there were people that said it was a mercy that she died. I get it. I really do. She was in so much pain… but I still needed her. I still needed a mom.”

He wiped his eyes with his hospital gown. 

“I still have her music collection. CDs, cassette tapes, records—it’s all in my room. She loved to sing around the house. Her favorite song was  _ Fly Me to the Moon _ . She said that was their wedding song.” He chuckled, though mostly at himself. He was a complete sap for love songs, so he listened to it on repeat, when he was drawing, when he walked around the city and as he fell asleep. “Before I got hearing aids, I got the lyrics completely wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“_Fly me to the moon,_” he sang, voice still a little hoarse as he struggled to do his best. “_And let me play among the stars._”

Bucky looked at him in awe. His voice was so rich and deep, it pulled him in.

“I always heard ‘ _ pray among the stars. _ ’ When I found out I had it wrong I felt dumb because I always thought, how great would it be to just lay back and look at the night sky and just… think about how amazing the vastness of the universe is. I don’t… I don’t pray anymore. But if I wanted to, I think I’d just look at the stars.”

He coughed a bit into his gown, trying to keep it quiet at first. But that never panned out well every time he tried it, leaving him to just cough louder. Bucky grabbed the plastic pitcher of water and a small paper cup. Steve took slow sips, drinking until the cup was empty.

“Sorry for rambling, I think the meds are kicking in.”

“Don’t apologize.” Bucky whispered, pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Don’t ever apologize. I could listen to you talk forever.”

“That’s a long time,” Steve murmured, lips curling into a smile.

“I’m serious. Steve.” Bucky took Steve’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles. “I was thinking… would you like to live with me?”

“Live with you?” He tilted his head. “Don’t you live with Clint and Natasha?”

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, but they’ve been looking for another place to live for a while now. Clint said he found a place in Queens Village.”

“ _ Queens Village _ ,” he squawked. Why the hell would anyone want to live so far away? “Might as well move to Long Island.”

“He wants a dog, one he found at a shelter,” Bucky said, chuckling. He still remembered the beaming look in Clint’s eyes when he first brought it up. “And our landlord isn’t budging on it.”

“I see.” Steve looked down at their hands, then flicked his eyes up at Bucky, cheeks burning. “I-I can’t pay rent yet, and I’m gonna be a lot of trouble.”

“You, trouble? Nah. But you’re not trouble to me.” He inched closer, until their lips were close, but not quite touching. “And if it’s too fast, I get it. It’s just an offer.” 

Steve smiled and gave Bucky a quick peck on the lips. “Everyone’s gonna say we’re moving fast.”

“Well, what do you think?”

His heart caught in this throat as his face reddened from ear to ear. Every heartbeat that surged through Steve’s veins shouted nothing but love.

“I think I love you,” he said firmly. 

“I love you, too.”

Bucky pressed his mouth against Steve’s, hands cradling the back of Steve’s head, keeping them together. Maybe they  _ were _ going too fast. But he didn’t care at that moment. He was just happy to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! COVID-19 and the quarantine are a pain, but I'm still here and I hope you guys are doing well! Please stay safe out there in the big wide world. Don't forget to drink water, eat as well as you can and get enough sleep. It's a rough road ahead, but we can get through it together. And it goes without saying--but I'll say it anyways--Black Lives Matter.
> 
> So Steve is okay! He's in a lot of pain, but he's ultimately okay! And Bucky just wants to be there for him every step of the way towards recovery. Thank you so much for sticking around this long. Please feel free to check out my other stucky fics (some are short, and some are in-progress) as well! Comments and kudos brighten my day and give my cat extra pats (not to mention reminds me to water my bamboo plant).
> 
> See you guys next time! Love you <3


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